Jayden was rich.
In his dream, he was disgustingly rich.
He was stepping out of a black Ferrari while cameras flashed like fireworks. A gold watch heavy on his wrist. A penthouse balcony overlooking the city. Champagne poured without him asking. Men in tailored suits shaking his hand like he was something powerful.
He laughed in the dream not the fake flirt laugh.
The real one.
Because in the dream, no one looked down at him.
No peeling paint on walls.
No overdue tuition emails.
No calculating whether he could afford new shoes or if he needed to charm someone into buying them.
In the dream, he didn't need older men.
They needed him.
He was signing contracts. Buying buildings. Throwing his card on tables without checking the balance.
Luxury cars lined up in a private garage.
Red.
Black.
Silver.
He ran his hand over polished metal and said casually, "Take that one."
No hesitation.
No asking.
Just taking.
That was the life.
Freedom.
Power.
Money that shut people up.
Then
The Ferrari dissolved.
The penthouse shattered.
The champagne turned into peeling ceiling paint.
Jayden's eyes snapped open.
Silence.
His fan hummed above him weakly.
The cracked corner of his apartment ceiling stared back.
He blinked.
Slowly.
Then muttered, "Oh, fuck."
He dragged a hand over his face.
Just a dream.
Of course it was.
He turned slightly
and froze.
A woman was curled on the far side of the bed.
And a guy was half hanging off the mattress on the other side.
Right.
Last night.
He exhaled sharply.
Three-way situations were easier when he was tipsy.
In daylight?
Annoying.
He checked his phone.
8:17 AM.
"Shit."
He had morning class.
Roman's class.
Jayden sat up abruptly, the sheets sliding down his waist.
The girl stirred.
The guy groaned.
Jayden didn't soften his voice.
"What the hell are you two still doing sleeping?"
The girl blinked lazily. "It's morning…"
"No shit, it's morning," Jayden snapped, already standing. "This isn't your parents' house. Get up."
The guy rubbed his eyes. "Dude, relax."
Jayden shot him a look. "Relax? I have class."
"So?"
"So?" Jayden laughed dryly. "So this isn't a sleepover."
He walked toward the window and yanked the curtains open.
Sunlight flooded the room like punishment.
The girl covered her face. "You're mean in the morning."
Jayden didn't respond.
He was already grabbing clothes off the floor.
This was exactly why he didn't prefer bringing people home.
Too domestic.
Too lingering.
He needed clean exits.
Not bodies in his bed when he had places to be.
"You've got ten minutes," he said sharply, heading toward the bathroom. "I don't do breakfast."
The bathroom door shut.
Lock clicked.
Silence.
Then water started running.
Jayden stood under the shower longer than necessary.
Hot water pounding against his shoulders.
He stayed there almost an hour.
Not because he was dirty.
Because routine was control.
He scrubbed hard.
Washed twice.
Conditioned carefully.
Shaved clean.
Brushed teeth slowly.
Trimmed edges.
He hated looking careless.
His life might be unstable.
His apartment might scream broke.
But he would never look like it.
When he stepped out, steam filled the small bathroom.
He wiped the mirror with his palm.
Looked at himself.
Sharp jaw.
Clean skin.
Eyes that knew how to lie without blinking.
"You're not staying here forever," he muttered quietly.
He meant the apartment.
Not the people.
When he walked back into the bedroom, it was empty.
Good.
He dressed quickly.
White shirt again different one.
Fitted black trousers.
Polished shoes.
Cologne light but expensive-smelling.
He checked his reflection one more time.
Perfect.
His phone buzzed.
Michael.
Jayden stared at the screen for half a second before answering.
"What?"
"Are you still at home?" Michael asked.
Jayden glanced around his apartment.
"Obviously."
"You have morning class, idiot."
"I know."
Michael sighed. "I'm outside your apartment. Come down. We're going together."
Jayden paused.
Michael wasn't like Marcus.
Michael didn't flirt.
Didn't hook up.
Didn't compete.
He was just… there.
Loyal in a quiet way.
"Give me two minutes," Jayden said.
"You said that yesterday and it was twenty."
"Two."
He hung up.
Grabbed his bag.
Locked the apartment door.
The hallway smelled like old smoke again.
He hated it.
Michael was leaning against his car downstairs.
Not luxury.
But reliable.
"You look like you slept," Michael said, eyeing him.
Jayden smirked slightly. "I did."
Michael shook his head. "You're insane."
They got into the car.
As they pulled onto the road, Michael glanced at him.
"You keeping up with Ethics?"
Jayden's eyes shifted toward the window.
Roman's class.
Professor Roman Ashford.
Controlled. Wealthy. Calculating.
"Yes," Jayden replied calmly. "I am."
Michael raised an eyebrow. "That professor seems intense."
Jayden's lips curved slightly.
"You have no idea."
Michael laughed. "Don't tell me you already annoyed him."
Jayden looked forward, expression unreadable.
"Something like that."
Traffic slowed near campus.
Students crossing.
Morning rush.
Michael parked.
As they stepped out, Jayden adjusted his cuffs.
Michael noticed.
"You always dress like you're going to a business meeting."
"I am."
Michael frowned. "It's college."
Jayden gave him a sideways look.
"Not for me."
They walked toward the business building.
Jayden's thoughts weren't on class.
They were on money.
On Roman.
On opportunity.
Men like Roman didn't just teach.
They connected.
They invested.
They recommended.
Internships. Corporate placements. Introductions to rooms Jayden had only seen in dreams.
He didn't chase professors.
But he wasn't stupid either.
If Roman thought that night was a mistake?
Jayden would let him think that.
But he wasn't letting that connection go.
He had bigger plans than cheap apartments and credit card debt.
Inside the building, the air felt different again.
Corporate.
Polished.
Roman was already inside the lecture hall when Jayden walked in.
Standing near the podium.
Reviewing something on his tablet.
He didn't look up immediately.
But he knew.
Jayden felt it.
That awareness.
That quiet electricity.
Michael nudged him. "You zoned out."
Jayden stepped into the room.
Chose his seat.
Middle again.
Roman finally looked up.
Their eyes locked.
No smile.
No reaction.
Professional.
But there was something beneath it.
Recognition.
Warning.
Jayden leaned back in his chair slightly.
Held his gaze a second too long.
Then broke it deliberately.
Roman began speaking.
And Jayden listened this time.
Not just to the lecture.
But to the man.
His tone.
His authority.
His discipline.
Men like Roman didn't hand out money.
They handed out power.
And Jayden wanted both.
As Roman explained ethical leverage in corporate strategy, Jayden's mind ran ahead.
He wasn't dreaming about Ferraris anymore.
He was calculating steps.
First.
Be top student.
Second.
Be unforgettable.
Third.
Make Roman see value.
Not temptation.
Value.
Because if there was one thing Jayden understood
Men with money didn't pay for boys.
They invested in assets.
And Jayden planned on becoming one.
When Roman's gaze flicked toward him again, steady and unreadable
Jayden didn't look away.
This wasn't about that night anymore.
This was about the future.
And he was done waking up broke.